Chapter 11

Cheorwon

They had been driving for about an hour. Bong-tae stared ahead with his hands on the steering wheel, then muttered absentmindedly.

“Cheorwon, of all places···.”

The 33rd Infantry Battalion of the 8th Division, Bong-tae's original unit, could certainly be considered a frontline unit. It could even be called a unit on the very front line.

But Cheorwon was on an entirely different level. Bong-tae still remembered seeing fellow trainees burst into tears when they learned they'd been assigned to Cheorwon.

Cheorwon, Yeoncheon, Hwacheon, Yanggu, Goseong.

These were the front lines of the front lines in South Korea. The northernmost regions of Gyeonggi Province and Gangwon Province, known as the dreaded Iron Triangle.

Every soldier wearing dog tags had heard those names until his ears were sore, and they were also the places soldiers least wanted to see when checking their unit assignments.

There was a reason people made such a big deal about Cheorwon.

Cheorwon really was different.

Most people imagined the DMZ as an area of rugged mountainous terrain, but Cheorwon was the only frontline region with extensive flatlands. The famous Cheorwon Plain was a prime example.

The problem was that North Korea overlooked that plain. If war broke out, Cheorwon was the only region where North Korean tanks and armored vehicles could advance south at maximum speed.

Countless battles had also taken place in Cheorwon during the Korean War. White Horse Hill, the Battle of Kimhwa, the Iron Triangle···. Names he'd heard so often during tedious military education sessions that he was sick of them. All those legendary battles had taken place in Cheorwon.

The van Bong-tae was driving passed a sign reading 'Welcome to Cheorwon County.'

“It's pretty chilly···. Is it because the car doors are missing?”

Lee Jin-gu hunched his shoulders slightly. Part of it was because the missing doors allowed the cold air to blow straight inside, but Cheorwon was simply a cold place.

As they gradually approached Cheorwon, signs of people having left in a hurry began to appear. A convenience store still had its lights on, but nobody was inside, and a television left running at a gas station counter showed nothing but a screen filled with static.

“Looks like the electricity is still working, but there's nobody around.”

Private Song Min-jae muttered as he looked out the window. Lieutenant Colonel Choi Pil spoke calmly.

“They probably all evacuated as soon as they received the emergency alerts.”

As he said, the civilians appeared to have completed their evacuation. More than four hours had already passed since North Korea's declaration of war and the beginning of the bombardment.

“People in Cheorwon are always prepared.”

In fact, residents living near the Military Demarcation Line, in places like Cheorwon, regularly underwent evacuation drills as though they were real emergencies. They had spent decades learning exactly where to evacuate and what to do first.

The van continued north. Then, at one point, Choi Pil pointed toward a fork in the road.

“Take the side road on the right.”

“Yes, sir.”

The van entered a narrow provincial road. The road gradually grew rougher. The vehicle bounced up and down continuously. Eventually, they entered a mountainous area with no houses or streetlights anywhere nearby.

Before long, they reached a broad clearing at the foot of a mountain. Dozens of A-frame tents had been pitched there, and various vehicles were parked throughout the clearing.

Choi Pil grinned as he looked at the field encampment.

“That's a relief.”

“Where are we, sir?”

“True White Skull.”

Pungam-ri in Cheorwon County was the initial wartime assembly point for the 18th Infantry Brigade, arguably the most famous unit within the 3rd Division.

The True White Skull Unit, 18th Infantry Brigade, 3rd Infantry Division.

Even within the 3rd Infantry Division, famous as the White Skull Division, this unit took exceptional pride in itself.

Originally, the nickname White Skull had come into use throughout the entire 3rd Division after the fierce battles it fought during the Korean War, but True White Skull meant 'the real White Skull' or 'the original White Skull.'

It was a shield responsible for one section of the 3rd Division's foremost defensive line. If war broke out in South Korea, the True White Skull Unit was among those expected to throw themselves against the enemy first.

Bong-tae slowly drove toward the entrance of the encampment. Even from a distance, he could see the sentries moving about busily.

Soon, a loud shout came from the guard post at the entrance.

“Stop! Stop! Stop!”

The sentries quickly raised their rifles. The soldiers at the machine-gun position near the guard post also spotted the approaching vehicle and visibly tensed.

“Stop! Move and we'll shoot! Quail!”

Bong-tae immediately stepped on the brakes. The van came to a halt, kicking up dust.

“Mount Halla!”

Bong-tae stuck his head out and shouted the password. Even though the password was correct, the soldiers didn't lower their rifles. Their fingers remained on the triggers.

It was a perfectly natural reaction. Just look at the state of the vehicle. Both doors had completely fallen off, and the windshield was shattered in several places and hanging loosely. The body was riddled with dozens of holes.

It would have been stranger if a sentry hadn't become nervous at the sight of such a vehicle.

“Identify yourselves!”

Bong-tae hesitated, wondering whether he should introduce himself as Sergeant Kim Bong-tae of the 33rd Battalion, 8th Division, or as a sergeant of the 101st Battalion, to which he'd been temporarily attached. At that moment, Lieutenant Colonel Choi Pil leaned his massive upper body out of the rear window.

“I'm Lieutenant Colonel Choi Pil, commander of the 101st Battalion, 332nd Special Operations Brigade.”

“State your purpose!”

“I have important information to deliver to your brigade commander.”

Of the two soldiers standing ahead, the one who appeared more senior slowly approached.

“P-please show your identification.”

“Of course.”

Lieutenant Colonel Choi Pil took his military identification card from his combat vest and showed it to the soldier. The soldier looked back and forth between the photograph on the card and Choi Pil's face before quickly snapping a salute.

“White! Skull!”

“Right. You're working hard. Open the gate quickly, will you? Every second counts.”

“Yes, sir! Understood! Vehicle passing through!”

The soldiers removed the large temporary barricade. The van slowly entered the encampment. The sentries made remarks as they watched the vehicle pass.

“Hey···. What the hell is that···?”

“Those bullet holes are fucking insane.”

The soldiers in the encampment all turned to look at them. They briefly stopped working. Lieutenant Colonel Choi Pil ignored their stares and inspected the camp.

“They've got armored vehicles, too.”

Several K200A1 armored personnel carriers were parked side by side beneath camouflage netting. They were the Republic of Korea Army's main armored personnel carriers, capable of carrying nine infantrymen into rapid assaults.

“The mortars and machine guns are still operational too. Not bad.”

Choi Pil nodded.

“There seem to be fewer vehicles than a brigade-level unit should have on its roster, but at least the unit hasn't been completely smashed.”

Staff Sergeant Kim Hong-je observed the soldiers of the True White Skull Unit.

“Yes, sir. But I can see some wounded men, and more importantly, the soldiers' morale···.”

Choi Pil naturally turned his attention toward the soldiers at Kim Hong-je's words. Then he began noticing things he hadn't seen moments earlier.

The soldiers' expressions. They looked utterly dispirited. Choi Pil watched them for a long while before letting out a deep sigh.

“Right. Looks like they took a severe beating here too.”

“But, Battalion Commander, why did we come here first···?”

“Because the brigade commander here is probably the most reasonable person among the frontline commanders.”

Bong-tae parked the van in the encampment's parking area. Choi Pil quickly stepped out. Once again, a small commotion arose among the soldiers of the True White Skull Unit.

His enormous build and special operations uniform were impossible to overlook. Staff Sergeant Kim Hong-je's appearance and equipment also stood out. His face was still black with camouflage paint, and his body was covered with various pieces of special warfare equipment.

The three soldiers who got out behind them didn't look normal either. Their combat uniforms were stained with blood and dirt, and the fabric around their knees and elbows had long since become frayed.

Anyone could tell they'd just come from a battle.

“···Who the hell are those guys···?”

“Looks like special forces.”

“What about those other guys? They're wearing regular combat uniforms.”

“Special forces have enlisted soldiers too.”

“Fuck. Why are they here?”

“Don't know, dumbass. Just keep digging.”

Whispers could be heard from all around. Choi Pil casually brushed off his combat uniform a few times, then looked at Bong-tae.

“Bong-tae.”

“Yes, Battalion Commander.”

“You boys get some rest here.”

“Yes, understood.”

“Get something to eat while you wait.”

“Yes, sir.”

Honestly, he was glad to hear that he could rest. Ever since artillery shells had struck Headquarters Company, he hadn't had a proper chance to sit down. Even while driving just now, he'd nearly fallen asleep at the wheel.

“Phew···.”

Lee Jin-gu sprawled out completely inside the vehicle. Choi Pil headed toward the command and control center with Staff Sergeant Kim Hong-je.

The area near the command and control center beneath the camouflage netting was the busiest place in the encampment. In particular, the communications officer and communications company soldiers were shouting busily as they struggled with communications equipment that still refused to work.

“White Skull!”

The sentry in front of the command and control center saluted Lieutenant Colonel Choi Pil and Staff Sergeant Kim Hong-je. The officers and NCOs around the tent also spotted Choi Pil and straightened their posture in surprise.

They were surprised first by Choi Pil's rank, and then a second time by the black tiger insignia on their combat uniforms.

“White Skull!”

“Loyalty. You're all working hard.”

The soldiers near the command and control center whispered among themselves.

“···Communications Officer, what unit is that?”

“The 332nd Special Operations Brigade. You know them, right?”

“I think I've heard of them···. They're famous, aren't they?”

“Of course, you idiot. Black Tiger.”

As the area outside the command and control center suddenly grew noisy, a middle-aged man poked his head out of the tent. He took a cigarette from his pocket, placed it between his lips, and greeted the unfamiliar visitors.

“Who is it?”

“Loyalty. It's been a long time, sir.”

Lieutenant Colonel Choi Pil smiled and saluted. The man who had emerged from the tent broke into a broad grin.

“Choi Pil!”

“You look terrible, sir.”

Deep dark circles hung beneath the man's eyes, and thick soot that he hadn't yet wiped off stained his cheeks. He grinned broadly, revealing slightly yellowed teeth.

“So you're not dead yet either?”

“That's right, sir. I still have work left to do.”

“You sure do! A fucking mountain of it! Come in! Hurry!”

The commander of the 18th Infantry Brigade, a key formation within the 3rd Division, held the rank of colonel. And not just any colonel. The position was filled by a colonel who had graduated from the Korea Military Academy.

For field-grade officers hoping to be promoted to general, command of the 18th Infantry Brigade was an assignment they couldn't help but covet.

Commanding a highly symbolic unit on the very front line for just two or three years practically guaranteed promotion to general.

Colonel Kang Tae-seong, commander of the 18th Infantry Brigade, was three years senior to Lieutenant Colonel Choi Pil. He belonged to the 57th graduating class of the Korea Military Academy. He and Choi Pil had worked in the same office during their time at Army Headquarters.

“Hey! Get the operations chief and intelligence chief over here!”

“Y-yes, sir! Understood!”

The communications officer, a captain, ran out of the command and control center as though his feet were on fire.

Colonel Kang Tae-seong sat down on an old metal chair.

“Choi Pil. How long has it been? Why don't you ever call?”

“Don't you know I was deployed overseas until last year?”

“Have you never heard the term 'international call'?”

“It's a little expensive on a lieutenant colonel's salary.”

“Hehe. Bullshit. What brings Choi Pil of Black Tiger here? Though I suppose it's a bit ridiculous to ask what brings you here in the middle of a war.”

“Please take a look at this.”

Choi Pil took a small piece of paper from inside his uniform. The moment Colonel Kang Tae-seong saw it, he immediately recognized what the markings on it represented.

He lit the cigarette between his lips.

“Do you know the one good thing about war?”

“···What is it?”

“Nobody complains when I smoke indoors.”

“Sir.”

“I know, I know. Where did you get this?”

“We found it on the corpse of a North Korean special forces soldier.”

“Just as I thought···.”

Kang Tae-seong's forehead creased. He took a long, forceful drag on his cigarette and blew out the smoke.

“Everything's been compromised. I'd already suspected as much.”

“Yes, sir. You need to relocate the encampment immediately.”

“Hmm···.”

“The enemy knows everything. You know what comes after artillery bombardments and the deployment of special operations forces.”

It meant full-scale warfare. Colonel Kang Tae-seong also knew that it wouldn't be long before North Korean infantry broke through the DMZ and began advancing south themselves.

And Cheorwon would undoubtedly be at the very center of that all-out war. The only stretch of flat terrain along the Military Demarcation Line. If the North Korean Army seized Cheorwon, it could reach Seoul in just one hour.

Choi Pil looked at Kang Tae-seong with concern.

“If those bastards push straight through, how many minutes do you think this place can hold out? Thirty minutes? An hour?”

Kang Tae-seong chuckled.

“Hehehe···. We're True White Skull. We should be able to hold out for at least five hours.”

“And after that? There is no after that, sir. You'll be wiped out. You need to move quickly and regroup—”

“Hey, Pil.”

Kang Tae-seong called Lieutenant Colonel Choi Pil the way he had fifteen years ago. Back when they had worn the rank insignia of first lieutenant and captain, running around like mad dogs. Back when generals had taken turns kicking them in the shins.

“Yes.”

“What do you think would happen if we abandoned this position?”

Choi Pil remained silent for a moment. Kang Tae-seong tapped the piece of paper Choi Pil had brought with his finger.

“Pungam-ri is positioned so that it can control both routes leading south out of Cheorwon at the same time.”

His finger moved along the road.

“Follow this road south and you reach Pocheon. Farther down is Uijeongbu, and after that, Seoul.”

“Yes.”

“Head right and you reach Hwacheon, then Chuncheon below it, and Wonju if you keep following the road.”

“···.”

Kang Tae-seong ground out his cigarette against the sole of his combat boot. The lingering smoke drifted through the fluorescent light, creating a heavy atmosphere.

“Regrouping itself wouldn't be difficult. We could pull the unit out and move south.”

“Then let's start preparing immediately.”

“We could assemble at Geunnam-myeon, or maybe Jamgok. Ah, somewhere near the 3rd Division's recruit training center would work too.”

He paused briefly, then looked at Choi Pil firmly.

“But if we abandon this position, who's going to fill it?”

Choi Pil couldn't answer.

“In the end, someone has to stand here. Someone has to put their body on the line to slow the enemy's advance. The True White Skull Unit is the shield standing at the very front of the Republic of Korea.”

“Hyung···. You're going to die.”

Seeing Choi Pil clench his teeth, Kang Tae-seong rose from his seat with a satisfied smile.

“Go ask the other units. They'll all tell you the same thing. Those old bastards will still be sitting in the positions laid out in their operational plans, digging their own graves.”

“···.”

“Looks stupid, doesn't it? You've hated this kind of rigid military thinking since the old days.”

“Yes. It looks fucking stupid.”

“I think it's fucking stupid too. But somebody has to be the idiot who does it.”

Choi Pil sighed.

“You really are a complete moron.”

“Hehe.”

“Give me a cigarette.”

Kang Tae-seong took out a cigarette and handed it to Choi Pil. After lighting Choi Pil's cigarette, Kang Tae-seong whispered quietly.

“Pil. You need to head to the rear.”

“···Cough, cough. What kind of bullshit is that?”

Choi Pil, who had put a cigarette between his lips for the first time in ten years, coughed at Kang Tae-seong's absurd words.

“Anyone can stand here and hold the line. It's the sort of job a dumbass like me should do.”

“Stop it.”

“But if the war drags on···. That's when we'll need different kinds of people.”

“I said stop.”

“People who can assess the situation intelligently. People like you.”

“Hyung, please···.”

The operations chief and intelligence chief, who had just arrived at the command and control center, couldn't bring themselves to speak because of the heavy atmosphere between Choi Pil and Kang Tae-seong.

#

Bong-tae tapped Lee Jin-gu on the shoulder as he nodded off inside the van.

“Wake up.”

“···Mmm. Sergeant Kim, has something happened again?”

Lee Jin-gu rubbed his eyes and sat up.

“Let's eat.”

At those words, Lee Jin-gu's eyes snapped open. Song Min-jae, who was in the back seat, also sprang upright.

Come to think of it, they couldn't even remember the last time they'd eaten a proper meal.

Ever since the war broke out, they'd done nothing but run around frantically. It would have been strange if they weren't hungry.

But Bong-tae didn't have any food. They had left their heavy field packs inside the pension, and they had no combat rations either. Besides, this was the 3rd Division, not the 8th.

But Kim Bong-tae was a rather shameless man. He tapped Jin-gu on the shoulder and stood up.

“I'll go get some food.”

“···What? From where? Sergeant Kim, where are you going?”

With a perfectly nonchalant expression, Bong-tae walked toward the field kitchen. The 18th Infantry Brigade's kitchen, which occupied an entire large tent, was busy preparing dinner.

The cooks were tossing freshly chopped vegetables into large soup pots.

Bong-tae approached the cook who looked the most senior.

“Hello.”

“White Sku—!”

The cook reflexively began raising his hand in salute, then made an awkward expression. His eyes swept over the sergeant rank insignia on Bong-tae's arm.

“Uh···. Who are you?”

“I'm Sergeant Kim Bong-tae from the 33rd Battalion, 8th Division.”

“Ah···. Right···.”

“I'm currently accompanying a battalion commander from the 332nd Special Operations Brigade.”

The cook's eyes widened.

“What? A battalion commander from the Special Operations Brigade?”

“Yes.”

Bong-tae nodded with an extremely serious expression.

“And he would like to have a meal right now.”

“The officers' meals are going to be prepared in that tent over there···.”

“He says he'd like to eat the same food as the enlisted soldiers. There's also one staff sergeant and two sergeants with him.”

“What? The same meal?”

Bong-tae adopted an expression that only experienced sergeants knew how to make. It was the expression that said, 'Well, when have officers and NCOs ever stopped making unreasonable demands?' The cook nodded slightly.

“Uh···. Well, it's not that we can't, but I'll have to ask the supply officer—”

“It's the Black Tiger battalion commander.”

“B-Black Tiger?”

“Yes.”

“I think I've seen them on YouTube···. The unit that went on overseas deployments.”

“If you're late, he might actually burn this entire tent down.”

The cook's face turned pale.

“His personality is a little···.”

“Ah.”

“Very···. How should I put it···. Hmm···.”

“Just a moment. I'll prepare it right away.”

The cook quickly turned around and hurriedly prepared four servings of food. Several side dishes hadn't been finished yet, but drawing on his one year and five months of experience, he quickly cooked some simple side dishes.

Five minutes later.

Bong-tae returned to the van carrying a black plastic bag. Lee Jin-gu's eyes widened the moment he smelled food coming from the bag.

“Wow···. You actually got some.”

“Hey, keep it down.”

“How did you get them to give it to you?”

“You think all my time in the military went straight up my ass? There are ways.”

Bong-tae opened the plastic bag. A burst of warm steam rose from it. White rice, pork stir-fried with red pepper powder, rolled omelet, stir-fried fish cakes, seasoned bean sprouts, and kimchi.

For a field meal on the first day of a war, it was remarkably good.

‘As expected of a prestigious unit. Their cooks are pretty good too···.’

Lee Jin-gu began shoveling food into his mouth with a plastic spoon and exclaimed in admiration. Song Min-jae didn't even speak, simply stuffing rice into his mouth as fast as he could.

Lee Hwan took out a sheet of clear plastic and put some rice, pork, and kimchi into it, making an improvised rice ball.

“Nobody's going to steal your food. Eat slowly.”

“···Yes, sir.”

Bong-tae nodded as he took a spoonful of kimchi stew broth. Come to think of it, being a military cook was quite an impressive assignment. Just because war had broken out didn't mean soldiers could go hungry.

Some people carried rifles like the sentries at the main gate, others carried shovels like the soldiers working inside the encampment, and still others carried ladles and cooked meals. War was something that functioned because all those people came together.

Just as the four men were nearly finished eating, several soldiers approached the van.

“Finished eating, guys?”

Four soldiers wearing the 3rd Division insignia stood there grinning. Their ranks included one sergeant and two corporals.

“Yes. The food here is good.”

When Bong-tae answered, one of the sergeants smiled and took out a pack of cigarettes.

“Do you smoke? Want one?”

“No. I don't smoke.”

“Really? That's too bad.”

The 3rd Division soldiers casually lit their cigarettes. Smoke soon drifted into the van. Lee Jin-gu and Song Min-jae, who hadn't finished eating yet, frowned at the cigarette smoke.

“Excuse me, I haven't finished eating yet.”

“Haha. Sorry about that.”

Although the men apologized, they didn't move elsewhere. Instead, they leaned against the side of the van and casually continued talking.

‘What the hell is with these bastards? Are they trying to start something?’

Bong-tae put down his spoon and glanced at them. His eyes met those of the 3rd Division sergeant. The man naturally lowered his gaze and glanced at the 8th Division insignia attached to Bong-tae's left arm.

“Hey, you're from the 8th Division?”

“Yes.”

“Ah···. Where? Yangju?”

“Pocheon.”

“Oh···.”

The soldiers looked at one another for a moment, then chuckled.

“Well, I guess that's still a frontline posting.”

There was something peculiar about his tone. Bong-tae immediately understood what it meant.

‘Ah···. That? Frontline superiority complex?’

The military had plenty of strange customs. Among them, there was one subject that inevitably came up whenever soldiers from different frontline units gathered. Who was stationed closer to North Korea? Who had served at a GOP? Whose posting was colder? Whose service was tougher?

There were often people who compared such pointless things to satisfy a strange sense of pride. Apparently, even now that war had broken out, that habit hadn't disappeared. It seemed almost instinctive.

The True White Skull sergeant took a drag on his cigarette and spoke.

“Pocheon, huh···. Well, it's not bad.”

“I told you I haven't finished eating, man.”

Lee Jin-gu stepped out of the van. His expression had darkened considerably. The True White Skull sergeant grinned as he looked at Lee Jin-gu's private first class rank insignia.

“Can't hear a word some rookie private first class is saying.”

“What···?”

“Especially not a private first class from Pocheon.”

“Hahaha!”

The soldiers all burst into laughter. Lee Jin-gu's face instantly turned red.

“No, you fucking···.”

He stepped away from the van and tried to approach the True White Skull soldiers. But Bong-tae grabbed Jin-gu firmly by the shoulder.

“Sergeant Kim···!”

Jin-gu turned his head with an aggrieved expression. He was about to ask why Bong-tae was stopping him, whether he was really going to stand there and take insults like that.

But Bong-tae casually struck the cigarette out of the sergeant's hand. As the startled sergeant looked up, Bong-tae's face moved right in front of his.

“You fucking pieces of shit···.”

The True White Skull soldiers stopped laughing. Lee Hwan froze, Lee Jin-gu froze, and even Song Min-jae, who was still chewing a mouthful of rice, stopped moving.

“···We're fucked.”

Cold sweat began pouring down Lee Jin-gu's face.

© Jungle Pocket #22844